English Class Gone Wrong
by lollipopluxury666
Summary: A little twist on the lives of my favorite celebs. Teenage Jeffree Star wakes up in a local abandoned asylum, little does he know, his being there means the fate of him and his friends lays on the blade of a maniac. Rated for gore and language.
1. Jeffree

***My friend and I had to write a piece for English class and we decided to continue it. This first chapter is hers! Sadly we do not own Jeffree Star, Adam Lambert, Tommy Joe Ratliff, Dahvie Vanity, or Jayy Von Monroe. Enjoy!***

My head spun as I opened my eyes. What happened? Last thing I remember was being at my friend Adam's "First Day of Summer" party. I was a young Jeffree Cage, 18 and slightly intoxicated. I think someone was handing out little cups of fruit punch and I drank one. Some idiot must've spiked it with something. But where am I? It looks like some sort of cell, but it's all padded. Kind of like a mental hospital's cell. Wait…oh come ON! I can't believe it; I'm actually in the local asylum. Of course, the place was abandoned ages ago after a fire started in the solitary confinement ward. People say one of the patients, some deranged surgeon who had a knack for "experimenting" with his patients, had started the fire. And survived it.

Of course that was just a bunch of folderol. No one had survived that fire. Except some said that at times you can hear anguished screams and maniacal laughter coming from the ward. Here. Where I am now. Here in a mostly burned-out psycho ward. Where a seriously disturbed bunch of people resided. And died. Ok, I'm done. I am so out of here. I really hope the cell door is unlocked. I begin walking towards it, my hand reaching out to the handle. To my absolute joy, it opens. I guess whoever dropped me off in here, despite being a complete moron, didn't mean any harm. In fact, I think I know who the culprits are: Tommy and Jayy, the biggest punks in our school. They spend most of their lives in the principal's office and in detention.

Alright, that's enough rambling for now. It's high time I get out of here. I step into the hallway, a burned out shell of what it previously was, and right on cue, the lights start to flicker. Awesome. Wait…I think I heard something. It sounds like someone whimpering. I creep towards the sound until I come to a double door, like the kind you find in hospitals (makes sense…). That's definitely where it's coming from. Even though I'm 18, I'm pretty short, only 5'7''. That means I can't peek into the little windows. Just as I'm about to push open the door, I hear a second person. This one sounds absolutely maniacal.

"Oh, stop your squirming! I'm only going to cut your head open and perform a little lobotomy! I mean, it'll only feel like a hundred nails being hammered in your brain simultaneously. Now let me go get my equipment." That's when I hear muffled screaming and wild thrashing. Honestly, I'm terrified. I decide to open the door a little bit, to see what exactly I'm dealing with.

Oh my sweet Lord. I know the test subject. Michael James is his name and he was a very popular guy in school. Before he disappeared without a trace four months ago. But that's him! He's horribly disfigured now, with long, deep scars all over his once very handsome face. His long blonde hair is matted and partly shaven off. That's when I notice terrible burns on his torso. What is Heaven's name is going on here?! Who's this psychopath? Speaking of the psychopath, he's back. And carrying a set of shady-looking surgical tools. A drill, a scalpel, and…a claw hammer. He turns around and I have to cover my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

First of all, that's the crazy surgeon who allegedly burned down the ward. Second, he doesn't even look human! His black hair is tangled and covering most of his face, which is grotesquely twisted and burned. The most striking part is easily his eyes, though. Pale as ice and wide open. His eyelids have been burned off! When I did spot that particular fact I did let out a bit of a yelp.

He heard it. Yes, he definitely heard it. He advances slowly towards me, a sick, deranged smile on his face. That's when I bolt away as fast as I can, him right behind me, laughing wickedly. Of course I have no idea where to go, so I turn a left corner and fly in the first door I see. It's dark and a strange metallic smell is in the air. Blood. As I regain feeling, I realize I'm basically ankle-deep in blood. Letting out what was probably the most blood-curdling scream you'll ever hear, I tear out of that slaughter room. The doctor is about twenty feet away from me and I have to think. Fast.

This time I make a right and dive in the last room in the hall. When I say "dive", I mean it. I didn't see the step and I flew on a concrete floor completely covered in glass shards. I can't move now. There's a piece of glass completely embedded in my hand. I can see it entering the back of it and exiting the front. The pain is…blinding. Shocking. I can't even begin to describe it. I'm drenched in my own blood. Even my blue hair turned red. That's it. I'm done. I hear the sick maniac coming and I know I'm dead.

I close my eyes for a second and reopen them. He's standing at the doorway, smiling and holding a butcher knife.

"Here boy, let Dr. Vanity help you out." Are the last words I hear before I feel the blade plunging in my stomach and tearing me apart. I see my guts spill on the floor, along with spurts of blood. Scream after scream rips from my throat, but I know no one can hear me. I'm fading. I stare into those dead, lidless eyes, and then it all goes black.

In a cruel twist of fate, I wake up some time later. I'm in excruciating pain, and I'm lying on something soft. I look to my right and I see Michael's lifeless body next to me, a deep gash on his head. I look around and notice I'm in a hole. Vanity is burying me alive. Suddenly I feel cold, wet dirt piling up on me. I can't breathe. It's in my lungs. I'm choking to death now. I can't see anymore. I can't breathe.

Some weeks later the ward burst into flames again. The authorities blamed it on gas pipes, but I know who started it. They uncovered no trace of the horrific acts committed inside. They never found my body. Or Michael's. They never found Dr. Vanity either.


	2. Tommy Joe

***This chapter is mine! I had a bit of a time restraint because I was falling behind in school but I managed. Once again we do not own any sexy beasts used in our story.***

We had been searching for Jeffree forever. Adam was going door to door asking people if they had seen him. Jayy was constantly making phonecalls to his never-ending list of contacts. I got up from the curb and told Jayy was going to go check around the block. He didn't seem to hear but I didn't feel like repeating myself so I left.

After a while I realized I had walked further than a block. I was at the end of a road, the road that was always abandoned except for on halloween. I looked up at the old crumbling mental hospital and smirked. Nothing about it seemed scary, "_it's just an old building with a terrible past."_

I pushed the iron gate open, pieces of rust sticking to my gloves. "_God this place smells like dead people.." _

Dr. Vanity looked out the shattered stained glass window with a sick grin on his face. His relfection glimmered on the blade of the large knife in his hand; distorted by the dried blood. "Come to look for your friend have you?" He threw the knife behind him, it landed in the cut open chest of a blue-haired boy...

"Jesus Christ! Why wont this fucking door open?" I took a good kick at it, but all it did was shatter in the middle, leaving an opening of sharp splinters. I crawled inside, tripping over my own feet. I put my hands out to catch myself. I winced as shards of wood and glass dug into my palms.

As I sat there pulling splinters out of my hands, I noticed a pink high heel sitting not far from me. I wiped my hands off, getting blood all over my leather jacket, and crawled over and picked it up. It was Jeffree's shoe! It had to be!

I got up, using the burnt wall to hold myself up. I must have twisted my ankle or something. My hand slipped into a hole in the wall; spiders crawling out up my arm. I love those little fuckers to death but when your in the dark and you have no idea whats going on, you act like me and start panicking, flailing your arms around and screaming like a pussy.

Number one rule of walking on an old staircase: dont wear creepers. My heel caught the edge of the step, and I went down, banging my head at least three times. I went to land on the last step when someone caught me. I groaned, almost unable to open my eyes. I really wish I hadn't.  
His face was burned to a crisp, and his eyes were cold as death. I tried to pull away but I had zero energy left in me. Fuck it. I blacked out, leaving my fate in the hands of this man.

I woke up god knows how long later. I went to go feel my head, but my arms were strapped down, as were my legs. I could only see out of one eye, as if someone had punched me to the point of bruising me.  
My heart was beating uncontrollably, fear finally setting in. I struggled against my bonds for a moment when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a head of blue hair. Jeffree stood off to the side, hair in extremely messy pigtails. I noticed he was in a skanky nurses outfit before I noticed one of his eyes was missing. "_Wait.. WHAT?" _I gagged at the sight. I fucking loved horror movies, believe me, but this was some scary shit.

A blood-stained hand slowly crept around Jeffree's waist. It ran slowly up his side, almost caressing him. That's when I noticed the hand bared a large cleaver.

"Smile for our guest darling.." An almost childish voice squealed as the knife cut into the corner of his mouth. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming as the knife cut up to his cheekbone. I fought against the old leather straps that held me down, I needed to get the fuck out of here. Now.

I couldn't breathe. That's when I realized that there was a knife in my chest. The doctor was on top of me, the knife he used to kill Jeffree now deep within me. I coughed up blood but couldn't sit up to spit it out. I wasn't as strong as I looked, and I sort of had a serial killer on top of me. I attempted to gasp for air, but he pushed the knife further in, hitting right between two ribs. My scream came out as a gurgle and suddenly everything around us was red. Red with my blood. A hand pushed me back and covered my mouth and nose. He was going to make me choke myself to death.

I felt the blood rush out of me as the dizziness took over. I barely felt his nails dig into my neck. His other hand ran down my chest, pulling the knife out slowly, twisting it every now and then. I twitched now and then, my body barely able to respond. The last thing I remember is a sheet being dragged over my body.

Jayy's phone died. "son of a bitch! Piece of shit iPhone!" He threw it onto the road as Adam came running over."Fuck your phone. We have a bigger problem." Jayy picked up his phone, that was the third phone this month. "What?"  
"Where's Tommy?"  
They both looked at each other, "Oh shit."


	3. Jayy

******Chapter three is written again by my darling friend. This is the original, as it obviously had to be edited before a teacher read it... **

**Please dont be shy, drop me a review! 3  
**

* * *

Oh God. First Jeffree, now Tommy. Where is this kid anyway? He must've wandered off, probably in that run-down ward. How stupid can you get?

Well, I guess it's up to me to save his non-existent ass. Adam's freaking out over the guy's disappearance and keeps pacing back and forth with a crazy look in his eyes, so I guess he's not going to be any help. These people…

I pull my "Kill the hipsters" shirt down a little bit, exposing more of my tattoos, and start walking up the hill towards the building. I don't even get half way when I slip and fall on my face. Damn it, these boots are slippery! I hope no one saw that, because that was really…wait. No one saw that, because no one EVER comes around here. Except for the druggies and smokers. Ok, maybe I've been here once or twice. But that's not important right now, I need to find this little cunt.

When I finally reach the ward, I see the front door has been kicked in. Good job, Tommy. Hold up, is that a scrap of his jacket? I got him that thing, and it cost me a fortune. I am going to kick him in the balls when I see him.

Walking in, the first thing I notice is the horrible lighting. It keeps flickering on and off and I think I'm going to start having seizures. I adjust my eyes and I can see cells. Burned-out cells. Some are open, some are bolted shut. One of them catches my eye. It's wide open and there's something pink in it. I edge closer and realize it's one of Jeffree's Louis Vuitton high heels. But…where's the rest of him? No use carrying it around like Cinderella's prince or something, so I just leave it. He can get it himself.

I decide to look around. Hmmm…where would a drunk, transvestite diva and an equally drunk, possibly homosexual blonde prettyboy be? Oh God, I hope they aren't fucking around in some cell. The thought makes me shudder and I immediately banish the thought from my head. Anyway, even if they were, I'd hear them. Trust me, Jeffree isn't exactly "quiet" when it comes down to it. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. Anyway, enough with the rambling, I seriously need to find them.

I have no idea where to look for them, so I'm kind of just wandering around. After walking in several cells and finding nothing, I've got half a mind to just walk out of here and forget about it. I'm about to turn around and head back to Adam's car, but in the corner of my eye I see a streak of light underneath a door. It doesn't budge when I try to push it open, so I back up and run at it, ramming myself against it. It flies open and I fall on the cold, concrete floor. The door shuts behind me with a silent thud and I'm left alone in the dark.

Jesus, why is the room dark? There was light coming from here a minute ago! I feel something liquid and warm running down my forehead. Blood. Fantastic. Great job, Jayy, you've really done it now. Getting up, I notice this room is freezing. I dust myself off and try to get my eyes used to the darkness. Since I can't see a damn thing, I'm feeling around the walls, looking for a light switch. While I'm stumbling around like an idiot, I feel something brush the top of my hair.

Of course, I start flailing like a spaz and shrieking like a little girl. I commence running around the room, crashing into everything. After about two minutes of utter rapture, I crash into what is probably a table and I fall (again). Alright Jayy, calm the fuck down. Breathe or something, relax. Ok…I'm good. Where am I? It's pitch black, cold, and smells like acid.

I have absolutely no idea where I am. No way in Hell I'm getting up again, so I just remain seated on the floor. I don't know how long I plan on sitting here, but I am NOT planning on walking around and crashing in another damn table.

Eventually I get bored. So. Freaking. Bored. So I begin singing a shitty screamo version of a Taylor Swift song. Just because I am so awesome. I barely get to the second verse of "I Knew You Were Trouble" when I hear a door open. It sounds far away at first, but as I hear another one that's much closer, I get worried. All of a sudden, the lights turn on.

Everything goes white. I shield my eyes and fall backwards. Damn it, what is this?! Blinking my eyes, I push myself back up. Oh my GOD. Oh…oh my God! Tommy…Jeffree…they're dead! They're set up like marionettes, both of them hanging from the ceiling. Jeffree's eyes are gouged out and his shoulders are totally dislocated. There's a huge gash in his stomach and his clothes are drenched in blood.

Tommy's face is covered in blood, neck snapped, eyes wide open, lungs spilling out of his chest. He must've drowned in his own blood. There's another guy there too, but I don't recognize him. He's burned and scarred pretty badly, his long blonde hair is matted and bloody. His wrists are crudely slashed, and there's a gaping hole where his heart would be.

They're all hanging there, like twisted puppets, and I can't take it anymore. I start throwing up and feel extremely lightheaded. It appears I'm going to pass out, but a voice jolts me up.

"Hello, and welcome to Dr. Vanity's little doll display. What's your name, boy?" His voice is smooth, calm, and absolutely maniacal. I don't see him, and frankly I don't want to. Involuntarily, I manage to choke out my name.

"Jayy. My n-name is…Jayy V-Von Monroe…" By now I'm feeling so sick I can barely breathe, and I'm struggling to stay conscious.

"Jayy, what a lovely name. Well, I'm glad you could make it, Jayy. You look like you'd make a wonderful addition to my…collection." Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the fuck up. No way in Hell, Heaven, the Underworld, Narnia, or whatever! I'm not going to stick around and become part of this psycho's "collection". But there's nowhere I can run to. I'm trapped in here with the bodies of my best friends, some other dead guy, and a deranged maniac.

A movement coming from somewhere in front of me brings me back out to reality. For a second, I'm not even sure what I'm looking at. He's a monster. His eyes are shot open and the color of ice, black hair covering his disfigured face. I can't help but stare in horror as he creeps toward me and I desperately crawl back in a pathetic attempt to get away from him. I find myself cornered, with him standing only a few feet away, a syringe filled with a suspicious blue liquid in his hand. Shrinking in the corner, I cover my eyes like a child, waiting for my end.

The last thing I hear is his demonic cackle, and the last thing I feel is the cold, sharp sting of the needle piercing my arm. Even though my eyes are shut, I see swirling patterns of purple and green. He probably gave me LSD or something. I feel myself slowly passing out, and soon, I'm knocked out cold.

When I wake up, it's as though I'm suspended in mid-air. Am I dead? Is this some sort of out-of-body experience? I'm actually half expecting to look down and see my own body lying there. But I don't. That means I'm alive. And why the Hell am I floating?! I look up and see my hands bound together and I'm hung like a marionette. A sick feeling floods over me and I look to my right. Tommy, Jeffree, and Blonde Guy are next to me.

I don't even notice that my previously white shirt is soaked with my own blood until I feel something hot and wet against my chest. I attempt to look down, but the most horrifying pain I've ever experienced hits me like a ton of bricks. Blood spurts and gushes out of my throat. I try to scream, but no sound comes out except for a pitiful growl. Reality dawns on me: my vocal chords have been torn out.

Tears flood my eyes and spill on my face, partly for the loss of my vocal chords (I was an aspiring singer) and the pain that went along with it, but mostly for fear. I am terrified of this Dr. Vanity. I know I'm going to die for sure, but I don't know how. Is he going to leave me here and bleed to death? Maybe he'll finish me off like Jeffree or Tommy or Blonde Guy. Just as I'm imagining a gruesome scenario involving rabid dogs, Dr. Vanity slinks in. Holding a blood-stained chainsaw.

Oh shit. I begin struggling madly, twisting around aimlessly. Dr. Vanity laughs humorlessly.

"Now Jayy, do you really think you're going to escape? The moment you stepped in here I secured the entire area. There's no way out."

Those words feel like a nightmare. I start to cry, weak, silent sobs of desperation. Between sobs I choke and cough up blood. This is atrocious. Dr. Vanity pulls the chord of the chainsaw and the sound nearly shatters my eardrums. There's no point in struggling anymore, so I just relax and wait.

I hear is the screaming of the chainsaw, and I feel the jagged blade penetrate my abdomen, the blood cascading down like a sick waterfall. I don't even scream. Mainly because I can't. The pain is there, I assure you, and I don't even want to think about it. I open my turquoise eyes and stare in his lidless ones.

And I stay like that until we're both done.


End file.
